Seventeen
by quaint.camera
Summary: "I've made the same wish every birthday since I was fourteen. This year . . . this year I want it to come true." It's Len's 17th birthday, and he takes Kaito up on the promise he made three years ago-a promise Kaito has broken. Sequel to "Like a Rainbow."
1. Birthday Boy

**A REALLY LONG AUTHOR'S NOTE THAT YOU REALLY SHOULD READ:**

**This community was so kind to me concerning my first-ever Vocaloid fanfic (it's called "Like a Rainbow" and this story is its sequel, so if you haven't read it, you might want to before you read this) that I decided to delve deeper and try to write a full-length story, centering mostly around the relationship between Kaito and Len, but with other Vocaloids included as well.**

**This is rated T mostly for random bursts of profanity. Sometimes I felt it was necessary to tell the story realistically and dramatically. I've tried my best to refrain from going overboard with it, or using it to make up for bad writing (one of my pet peeves). Please review so that I know you're reading and will continue to write.**

**I'd like to thank Suki Doll for her especially abundant encouragement on my last Kaito/Len fic, and to all of my dear readers, I present "17"—this is for you. Let me know how you like it and review, okay? I'll try to upload at least one new chapter each week, and they won't always be as short as this one.**

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Overwhelming heat filled Len Kagamine's face, like a blush but worse because it didn't stop there. He felt it seeping into other parts of his body; something in him loosened as it overtook him completely. His vision blurred and his own knees, pulled close to his chest, became soft blobs of color, along with the rest of his surroundings.

There was no stinging in his eyes, just an aching, hot hole in the center of his chest as he allowed the tears to pool until there grew too many and they spilled from him. He blinked them from myriad blonde eyelashes and the clear liquid streamed over his smooth skin, down the sides of his nose to pool at the tip of his chin.

He leaned his head down to rest it on his knees, not bothering to wipe his face. The heat had condensed itself, aching terribly in the center of his chest, and his breath was coming in little pants. He longed to let himself go and just sob, but knew that if he started he wouldn't be able to stop. It would only make his sides sore and his voice hoarse, and he'd probably attract somebody's attention, anyway. So he breathed in silence, trying not to think about the way his throat felt swollen and the seemingly never-ending sorrow.

_Not on my birthday_, he thought in despair. _Not on what was supposed to be our beginning, the best day of my life . . . _

It had been a mistake to allow himself to think of how stupidly hopeful and happy he had been only moments before, for it only magnified his present misery. "Bastard," he whispered, his voice venomous even as he curled in on himself, longing for a tall man with a deceptively serious face to come in silence, drop to his knees and twine his arms gently around his waist . . . talk him through these tears with the rise and fall of the deep, tender tones of his voice. A sob swelled out of him, and he gulped and clenched his mouth shut, weeping bitterly now—and not at Kaito, but at himself! He growled fiercely; how he hated himself for needing that man!


	2. Someone Else

With short, brisk strides, Kaito Shion strode towards the exit of the mostly-empty public park, his face set, firm, and white. His head whirled with angry thoughts. _So demanding,_ he thought in disgust. _Doesn't think about anybody but himself . . . _

Guilt struck him as he remembered Len's looking up at him with shimmering sea-blue eyes which held the open love and admiration that always so unnerved him, as it had the first time he'd glimpsed it. He shivered, and to disguise it, shifted position and sat upright.

After a moment, Len sat up, too, bringing his knees to his chest and gazing at him in concern. "What is it?" he asked, his voice so gentle that it could have been a caress. He frowned at the lack of response. "Are you cold?"

Damn it, the boy must have seen him shiver. He had only a moment to be angry before Len slung an arm across his back and drew closer. Kaito looked at him in surprise and smiled, but it was a smile that didn't touch his eyes with that electrifying, teasing spark; they remained the rich, serious blue that was all that most people ever saw. Len felt an odd mixture of irritation and worry, but before he could inquire further, Kaito said, "You haven't made a birthday wish yet." He fixed Len with an expectant gaze.

". . . I've made the same one every birthday since I was fourteen," Len said quietly. "This year . . ." He opened his eyes and looked deep into Kaito's. "This year I want it to come true." He seemed to glow with the secret and his hope for it, and Kaito found himself slightly breathless.

"What is it?" he asked, urgently. "What do you want?"

Len swallowed, amazed at the rapid rate at which his heart pulsed. "I want to be with you," he blurted, and Kaito's brows knit together in confusion.

"You _are_ with me," he said, frowning.

"No!" Len cried, shortly, as if he were in pain.

Kaito started at him as his face contorted with some powerful emotion he was wrestling down. "You're with me right now," he said, reasonably.

"Not like that," Len retorted. "I mean the two of us—together. Like you promised me, remember?"

A shock widened Kaito's eyes, transforming them into their true electric blue.

_As rain pelted his back and streamed down his hair, he plunged into icy water and came upon a small child that screamed at him: "Get away!" He opened his arms and brought the stubborn, headstrong boy to his chest, feeling the tremors that ran throughout his body and sheltering the source of his fears. _

"_You love me, too," he'd said, wearing serenity on his sweet face because he now knew, he understood why he'd been denied at first: fear. And what could he fear now that Len knew? Discovery—but then Len promised not to tell even his twin, Rin. Nothing, then. No more fears._

"_What about the age gap?"_

". . . I can wait for you." The words fell from lips stunned by their emergence. "Like a rainbow waits for the end of a storm." He met Len's simmering eyes and watched the lean face that had once been so round and boyish transform into a tender smile. He still had the same fathomless blue eyes, and even if they were no longer as wide, they glittered with all the dazzling charm of an infatuated young man.

_Len's grown up . . . and still adores me as much as he did then. You should b__e grateful, you fool._

Len looked away. "I thought you'd forgotten," he said, "and now . . . I'm ashamed that I could even think such a thing."

Kaito sighed. "I could never forget that, Len."

"But why did you never bring it up again after that?" Len demanded.

"I wasn't ready. And neither were you—you were too young."

"And I'm _still_ too young, is that it?" he sneered. "It's been three years now, Kaito." Len spoke in earnest . "I'm seventeen—a man. I'm ready. I've been waiting for this day, for _you_, for so long . . ."

And he heard the longing in his voice, in the low, husky timbre it had taken on. God.

"Ever since you gave me that promise, you've been my hope . . . I've been saving myself for you, don't you see?"

He closed his eyes. _Stop it. Stop saying these things._

"No, that's right, you don't want to see." The voice was almost a growl—low, dangerous. "That's Kaito for you, always putting off and ignoring and denying, like you denied me that first time when I came to you, when I told you—" He broke off, feeling suddenly as though he was going to cry. It had taken so much courage . . .

Kaito's eyes opened; he was obviously wounded. "I came after you! I came to you and held you and carried you and confessed! And all that meant _nothing_ to you?"

The boy stared at him, still as a stone, and when he spoke, his voice was dull and tired. "That's what I've been trying to tell you, Kaito—it meant everything to me when you gave me that promise. Everything! But if I hadn't run away and got caught out in that rainstorm, you would never have come after me, and I would never have even known you loved me, and why?—You were too afraid! I would have been heartbroken, all because you were too afraid to tell me!"

". . . At the time, I really thought I was doing what was right."

"You told me I didn't understand love! You thought that was _right?_"

He groaned. "Try to see this through my eyes, okay? You were only fourteen at the time. I was seventeen. Telling you would have made me feel like a pedophile."

There was silence, in which Len looked oddly calm, but Kaito knew he was boiling underneath. "So now you're twenty." He spoke lazily. "And I'm seventeen. This relationship would no longer smack of pedophilia, yet you don't seem very eager to engage in said relationship. Hmm . . . Now why would _that_ be?" He raised a golden brow at Kaito, an ironic element to his face.

His throat felt dry. "I just don't feel it's time yet, Len. You're still so young, and I—"

"Bull_shit!_" Len cried. "I'm ready as I'll ever be; it's _you_ who's not ready! You're still afraid, or insecure, or _something_ . . . _!_" His eyes flashed suddenly. "Or . . ." His voice became tight and silky, might have been seductive in another context. "There's someone else."

_He knows_, Kaito thought, heart thumping powerfully in his chest. _My God, he knows._

_

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**A/N: Next update is Monday the 14th-Valentine's Day, so make sure to add to story alert if you like!**


	3. The Goodbye

**A/N: And here it is! The Valentine's day update! Happy V-day; hope you're having more luck in love than Len and Kaito currently are. :( I promise it'll get better eventually. Hope you all enjoy the next two chapters. Don't forget to review, my little lovelies, so I know what you think. :)**

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"You aren't saying anything," Len said, unnecessarily. His eyes were narrowed in suspicion, which only grew with Kaito's silence. "You aren't saying anything!" he cried. He pressed a fist to his mouth and made a noise that was somewhere between a sob and a scream, and Kaito couldn't tell which it was, if either. "It's true!" he continued, in a high, hysterical voice he had never heard before. "Oh God, it's true . . ." He uncovered his face and spoke harshly. "Who is it? Who is she?"

He opened his mouth to speak and Len cut him off.

"Or are you still going to try and tell me that there _is nobody else_, that _I'm the only one_, that you'll _wait_ for me?"

Kaito closed his eyes. Clearly, this was mockery, and there was nothing he could say to make it better. _You deserve this_, he told himself. _You really do._

"You know, I believed you that day."

_I know you did. I half believed myself._

"I saved myself for you. I waited."

_I tried to, Len, I really did. I never meant for anything to happen, for you to be hurt . . . _

"And this is how you repay me." A bitter laugh rose from him. "My own naivety disgusts me."

". . . Not as much as my unfaithfulness disgusts me."

Len looked up in surprise; it was the first time Kaito had spoken in awhile. His mouth twisted. "It ought to." He laughed suddenly, and not in amusement. "Finished. Before we ever even began."

_Because of her. But really . . . _"I never _promised_ you anything," he said, and if he was guilty at saying the words, Len's scathing look made him feel filthy.

"So because you didn't literally say _I promise_ I'll wait for you . . ." He trailed off, shaking his head and looking as though he didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. "Damn you."

_Yes, damn me. For nearly breaking your heart once, and for waiting until later to actually do so. For killing your hope, your dreams, your naivety—yes, damn me. _

"I don't suppose you would care if I apologized." The words were cold, biting.

"When I don't even know what you _did?_" he said shrilly, eyes like lightning. "Or with _who?_"

"Think. If I told you—" His voice was calm, but to Len it was cold, chilling . . . heartless. The voice of a man who denied his devotion, looked for loopholes, lied about love . . . "Would it help any, or just make it worse?"

"Both," Len replied, softly, then spat, "But why should I care? You don't even feel like I should know, that I'm worthy of your consideration, so why should _I _care about _you_!"

_Shouldn't. Can't help it, though. Love him. Have to know._

"You shouldn't," Kaito said, somber. "This is completely my fault."

At that, Len looked up, his expression daring him to be joking.

"If I had turned you away three years ago, as I meant to do, none of this would be happening right now, because you'd hate me too much to care."

"Or it would be exactly the same as it is now—I'd still love you so much that I'd have to care, whether I wanted to or not. Even if it hurt me."

Kaito felt himself softening; he felt indescribably weak at the admission Len's words had just implied, unworthy . . . Would he ever feel worthy?

_God, Len, I love you too—so much it scares me. Why do you think I had to have another, had to forget, had to run from this, from us? We, together, are so difficult, so impossible, and I hate loving you just as you hate loving me, but I can't see living without you, my love, even though we—us—will never be easy. Why is it so damn hard? Why can't I tell you this?_

"I love you," Len said, very clearly and deliberately, and the words hurt him, hurt him so.

_You were always the stronger of us, never afraid to admit to the emotion, but me, I'm just like you said—I run, I hide, I even tried to forget, I was unfaithful, and I should have known what I would get. I'm finally getting what I wanted, and now that it's here, I want so badly to take it back. Take it back . . . _

But Len went on, heedless of his soliloquy. "But it's obvious to me now," he said, "that you don't love me back."

_But I love you more than anything! So much I can't stand it. But I can't say that now; I'll only hurt you more._

"You should never have let me think you did, Kaito. You probably never thought I would take you so seriously, but it was still a terrible thing—to let me hope." He shook his head, eyes glassy. "Now I think I'll never hope again. No wonder people are so bitter when it comes to love . . . it's because people like you break their hearts. At least now I understand. Thank you for that. At least I got something out of this, even if it wasn't what I wanted." He glanced at Kaito. "You can leave now."

Slowly, Kaito rose to his feet. The ground was blurry, his face was hot, and yet he couldn't bring himself to walk away. "Len . . ."

_Say it! I love you, Len Kagamine—say it! I'm sorry—say it! _

". . . Goodbye."

_Go to hell._


	4. A Little Game

"Len!" Rin Kagamine cried, happily, reaching out for a hug. Her smile and exuberance faded with one good glance at Len.

The area around his eyes was swollen and puffy, his face was pale, there was a definite slump to his shoulders, and his hands were stuffed deep into his pockets. He wore a numb, cold expression on his face and still hadn't looked directly at her.

"What—?" she got out, but he was already slipping past her. Quietly, she closed the front door and followed him down the hall to his room with rapid steps. "What happened?"

He could feel her concern, sharp and sincere, and closed his eyes against it. _Not now._ He snapped on the light, bathing the room in a yellow glow that was warm—a way he never expected to feel again.

"Don't want to talk about it," he said, shortly, still not facing her. He shrugged the jacket off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground before tossing himself facedown on the bed.

She stared.

"Would you mind turning out the light?" he asked, voice muffled by the pillows his face was buried in.

"Su-sure," she stammered, feeling her body kick back into action. She reached down and picked up his jacket, hung it on a nearby peg. She flicked off the light and waited a little longer; he didn't so much as stir, and made no move to thank her.

_Something went horribly wrong, and I don't have a clue what it is, but I've got to figure it out—and in the meantime, make him feel better. Moping on your birthday is not allowed, Len._

She disappeared into the kitchen, smiling to herself. "So I was right to bake that banana cream pie early after all!" she said smugly, to an invisible audience.

She'd recently developed a bad habit of talking out loud to herself, and it drove Len _insane._ She laughed, picturing his irked expression growing more and more obvious until he finally snapped something rude at her, which she merely laughed at. Len's temper was a thing to be reckoned with, but only if you didn't know how guilty he felt after it forced him to lash out. Most people had no idea, but Rin knew, and so by not reacting angrily, she gave him an easy way to reverse his rage, and inevitably, he would end up laughing with her.

The refrigerator door came open easily, exposing the lightened interior and the full aluminum pie pan that sat on one of the empty racks. Rin slid a hand under its cool surface and lifted it out, grabbing a metal can from one of the shelves as she did so. Gently, she set both the can and pie on the counter and turned back to push the door shut.

"Plates!" she remembered suddenly, clapping her hands together. She whirled and flung open a nearby cabinet, retrieving two heavy ceramic plates and setting them down separately on the counter.

The pie's surface looked smooth and creamy; she skimmed a finger across the top and licked it. After a moment, she nodded in approval, wiped her hand on her pants, and pulled out one of the drawers on the counter, sifting through the silverware until her hand emerged triumphant, holding a butter knife. It slipped deeply and easily into the smooth surface of the pie, and she cut two perfectly equal pieces, placing one on each plate.

Then she picked up the metal can, shook it, and spurted a liberal amount of whipped cream onto each piece. Collecting two clean forks, she took one plate in each hand and went back to Len's bedroom. She paused at the doorway and peered around the corner. Len had propped himself up against his pillows and was lying stretched out, hands folded over his stomach and eyes closed. Light from the window behind his bed filtered through the blinds and cast a soft blue wash over his face and an aura of calm over the room.

_So vulnerable_.

He opened his eyes, then, saw her standing there looking at him sadly, softly, and balancing two plates of pie. He tried to apologize, but couldn't get anything to come out.

Rin sat down on the side of the bed. Nervously, without looking at his face, she handed him a plate and a fork. "Banana cream pie," she said, in explanation. "I know bananas are your favorite."

"Yes, they are," he agreed, affably accepting what she handed him.

She relaxed, watching him cut a piece, the fork scraping across the plate—watched him place it in his mouth.

"'s good," he remarked, mouth full. He swallowed, looked disgusted. "If only I had the appetite to properly enjoy it. Yick!"

"If you want, I'll put it back in the fridge 'til you're ready to eat it."

No questions about why he wasn't hungry, and she still hadn't touched her own piece; he smiled at her as best he could. "Thanks."

Blushing, she scurried form the room. In the kitchen, her pocket began to buzz insistently, and she pulled out her phone and read the text: _Is Len home yet? _

Frowning, she fired off a reply. _Yeah, he got here a few minutes ago—why? Wasn't he with you? And what happened to him? He looks like he's been crying, and on his b-day, too! :( _She hit send and stuffed the phone back into her pocket.

When she reached the bedroom, she said nothing about Kaito's text. Len was alert, but his eyes were unfocused. She crawled onto the bed and settled her head into the pillows beside him, lying sideways so that she faced him. "Happy birthday," she sang, sweetly, and tousled the tendrils of hair on his forehead that were too short for him to pull back into his ponytail.

At her sentiment, and the touch, he half-laughed, a sound that died early in his chest, and gazed up at her with eyes that were remarkably clear and blue for being in such pain.

"What happened?" she asked again.

His face was pleading with her. _I want to tell, I can't tell, make me tell; I need to tell someone._ He sighed and started to turn away; she grasped his shoulder gently but firmly, and the gesture got his attention. "What?" he snapped. It was that short temper of his, but she knew how to beat it. She tugged him back towards her, ran a caressing hand over the top of his head. He sighed deeply, growing limp and defenseless under her touch.

"I want to know," she said, "and I think you want to talk about it, but I don't want to push you, don't want to hurt you."

He flinched; she felt a sudden surge of affection and happiness that she was still able to read him so well and laid a palm on the side of his face. "You've been hurt enough already, by whatever this is." Her voice was so gentle, so understanding, undemanding and comforting that he, for the first time, returned one of her gestures. He laid a warm hand atop hers, pressing it briefly to the side of his face.

Her phone buzzed and the moment was ruined. "Just a minute," she said, apologetically, and flipped it open.

_He WAS with me, but we got into an argument. I ended up leaving—he wanted me to, he said, but that's probably why he's upset now. I didn't try to stay; I didn't want to hurt him any more than I already had. Is he alright? Are you with him? Tell him "I'm sorry" for me, Rin. I just can't tell him myself._

She snapped the phone shut, the phrase "didn't want to hurt him" echoing over and over again in her ears until she growled. So Kaito was the cause of this, the bastard. The bed moved, and Rin knew Len was sitting up.

"Who was that?" he asked. He sounded sleepy.

She hesitated, but told him. "Kaito."

"Oh." There was a silence. He sunk back into the pillows.

"He's worried about you. Said to tell you he's sorry—for what I don't know, but I assume you do."

He didn't reply. "Rin, have you ever loved somebody? Like, really loved them? With everything you are?"

"Yes," she said, slowly, wondering where he was going with this. "Of course I have. Why?"

"I just found out today the person I love isn't quite who I thought they were."

"Maybe," she said, trying to comfort him, "you're just expecting too much from them. If you expect perfection, eventually you're going to be disappointed."

"But I wasn't expecting perfection!" Len spoke bitterly. "I was just expecting—"

"Reciprocity? For your feeling to be returned to you with equal intensity?" She shook her head. "Unlikely, Len. One will usually always feel more than the other. Love is flawed that way." She toyed with a lock of her hair, her eyes distant.

"How do you know so much, hmm?" he asked, leaning over her, half-teasing and half-curious. "Are _you_ in love, too?" He shook her shoulder, smiling slightly when she flushed. Grinning, he whispered in her ear, "Tell you mine if you tell me yours."

"W-well, um." She was still flustered. "I don't know . . ."

"I promise not to tell anybody." His voice was silky, his breath hot against her ear and neck. "C'mon," he coaxed, smiling hopefully at her, his heart in his eyes.

At least, if nothing else, the prospect of this little game was making him less upset—and if it would help him feel better on his birthday, she'd play along, regardless of the cost to herself. She swallowed and said in a small voice, "You first."

He gnashed his teeth together. "_That's_ more like it!"

She felt his lips brush her as he whispered, "I'm in love . . ." He paused for dramatic effect until she couldn't stand it anymore and elbowed him. ". . . with Kaito Shion."

Her eyes went huge. "Really, Len?"

He nodded. "Really. What, don't believe me?"

"Oh, no, I believe you," she said, solemnly. "I just don't . . . How come I never noticed it before?"

He groaned. "Oh, Rin, what a terribly innocent, oblivious little girl you are," he sighed.

"It does explain a lot, though . . ."

He smirked. "Don't get sidetracked. You still have to tell me yours."

She seemed to shrink. "You," she said, quietly.

"What?"

So he was going to make her say it, in all its excruciating clarity. "It's you, Len. I love _you_." And before he could react, she kissed him and fled.

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**A/N: Next update is Monday the 21st! Stay tuned, and add to Story Alert if you haven't. I promise that there will be more Vocaloids to come in the next chapters, but I'm not going to tell you who-it's a surprise! :D**

**UPDATE!: SO sorry, guys, I'm having some trouble with saving my files right now. I promise you that the next two chapters will be up this Friday (Feb. 23rd), and my apologies to anyone who was looking eagerly forward to the update-I don't promise them lightly and can assure you this story HAS NOT been abandoned. I have eight additional chapters already written and ready to be uploaded, just to assure you. So thanks to all of you that were patient, and you'll notice I've added all my reviewers to my fave authors, because I do appreciate you guys! You are my feedback and my inspiratino to continue working on this story! Love to you all!**


	5. Home Invasion

**A/N: Rin and Len have the same birthday. Just realized this. Too late to change it. *hangs head* Whatevs.**

With a jerk of the key, Kaito shut off his ignition and sat silent in the dark cabin of his pickup truck, head resting on the steering wheel. He checked his phone again, but there were still no messages. His last text to Rin had been awhile ago, and she still hadn't replied. Well, there was no use moping about it.

He got out of the truck and bounded up the three small steps that led to the porch. As he unlocked the front door, he thought he heard some noise and wondered if he'd left the TV on. The door popped open and, sure enough, the TV was alive with sound, light, and color, roaring quietly, but roaring nonetheless.

Somebody's feet were propped up on the coffee table, but he couldn't see who was on the couch. Quietly, he crept around to see who it was, all the while his visitor shouting, "Nyah! Yyyy-aaahh! Hunh!" in tandem with the on-screen violence.

"Gakupo!" Kaito breathed, sifting a hand through his hair and feeling incredibly relieved.

Gakpoid Kamuai, the man reclining on his couch and so casually using his coffee table as a footrest, gave a sly smile. He had a handsome, chiseled face, long wavy purple hair that, in its abundance, flowed down his back and over his shoulders like ribbons, and was wearing some sort of loose, silky kimono-esque thing with ornate, oriental designs, two chopsticks protruding from the bun at the back of his head. "Of course. Who'd you think it was?" His voice was soulful, smoky, and unmistakable, more distinct even than his hair or the crazy outfits that earned him so many stares.

"Well, how was I to know?" Kaito said, crossly. "I thought it was a damn home invasion or something. You could've at least _told me_ you were coming over."

"I could have," Gakupo said, looking down his nose to inspect his fingernails, which he'd painted purple. His eyes flicked upward, dark and glinting. "But that wouldn't have been nearly as fun as watching you freak out right now, would it?"

"It's not funny," Kaito said, turning away to hang up his jacket. "If you knew what kind of day I've had today . . ." He trailed off.

Gakupo sat up, sliding his feet off of the coffee table. "Did things not go as planned?"

"Do things ever go as planned?" he said, wryly, turning back to the couch.

Gakupo thought for a moment, then extended the huge bowl that was in his arms. ". . . Popcorn?" He reached in, retrieved a handful, stuffed it in his mouth, and wriggled his eyebrows inticingly.

At the sight, Kaito couldn't help it and burst out laughing. ". . . N-no. No thanks." Chuckling, he sat down beside him and kicked off his shoes, nodding towards the TV. "What _is_ this?"

"Ah moov cahl heerho." His words were garbled by the popcorn in his mouth.

"What?" Kaito demanded, irritated.

Gakupo swallowed. "A movie called Hero*," he repeated.

"Oh." Kaito watched the women on-screen fight each other, folds of their rich and colorful clothing flying as they dodged a thousand cherry blossoms and defied gravity.

"The fights are positively absorbing," Gakupo said, sounding faraway. "Were their outfits inspiration for _this_?" Kaito teased, tugging at a piece of silken fabric.

"Yes, actually," he sniffed, jerking his arm out of reach.

Kaito could only grin; Gakupo was a sucker for anything set in the past, and was obsessed with fight scenes and their choreography. Even now, he sat absorbed, only once in awhile tossing some popcorn into his mouth.

Kaito frowned as words flashed across the bottom of the screen. "Why aren't you watching this in English?"

"They didn't dub it in English," he retorted, his attention never leaving the screen. "Besides, it's more authentic this way."

Kaito rolled his eyes and slumped against the couch cushions. "Whatever you say . . ."

When Gakupo finally managed to tear himself away, it was to shake the empty bowl, making the few unpopped kernels rattled in the bottom. "Kaito, will you make some more popcorn?"

He looked over and was astonished to find him dead asleep, mouth hhalf-open as he snored. As he looked closer, he noticed dark circles under his eyes, and that the surrounding skin was almost translucent—

_He must be quite exhausted. How selfish of me not to have noticed._

He reached for the remote and powered off the TV, which left the room nearly silent, save for Kaito's soft, steady snoring. Feeling strangely desolate, Gakupo stood and stretched his friend out on the couch. As he did so, he felt his phone vibrate, and froze for a moment, thinking it would wake him up, but he only murmured and turned his face over into the couch pillows. Unable to resist, Gakupo fished his phone out of his pocket—he had a message from Rin:

_Will you take me and Len shopping tomorrow?_

_Sure_, he texted back, surprised. _When/where should we meet?_


	6. The Helpless

Len sat frozen in awe, fingertips splayed over his cheek where Rin's lips had been only a moment before. He slid off the bed and reached the hallway just in time to see the door slam shut.

"Rin!" he called, pounding his palm against it. He stepped back—from the crack at the bottom of the door, he could see the light was on—and he knew she was in there anyway. He tried the handle; it wouldn't budge, which meant she'd locked it; she didn't want to talk to him.

"Rin," he repeated, pressing his face to the door. "I'm not mad. I just want to talk to you." When there was no response, he took a deep breath and prepared to humble himself. "Please, Rin, let me in. You can't just say something like that and then leave me out here."

There was a sniffle and the sliding of the lock; he waited a moment before pushing the door open. A curvier, softer, shorter, and more feminine version of himself was standing there, trembling and terrified. Suddenly she threw herself on him, wracked with fierce, gut-wrenching sobs. Not knowing what else to do, he held her as she cried into his shirt and clung to him as if it would mean death to let go. Tentatively, he ran a hand over her back and whispered "shhh" into her hair, but his kindness only made her cry harder.

_This is how bad I felt today,_ he thought, and then with a pang, _But there was no one there to hold me. Kaito should have—_

He picked Rin up and carried her to the bed which was, except for the pink covers, identical to his own, and set her down. She was trembling, so he covered her with the big fluffy comforter and then crawled up beside her, wrapping his arms around her waist to give her warmth. He felt her shake with little sobs and watched the tears trickle down her face, all the while thinking, _I know what this is like_, and overflowing with empathy for her.

He closed his eyes and began to doze off, until he heard, "Y-you're n-not mad?—*hook!* You don't h-hate me?"

Without opening his eyes, he murmured, "Does it look like I hate you?"

"N-no, but you should! It's _disgusting!_" she spat, still shivering.

Len chuckled. "It must not be disgusting to you, if that's truly the way you feel."

"It is, though! It's wrong for me to love you, Len! We're _siblings!_ That'd be—incest!"

"Actually," he said, grimly. "It'd be Twincest, since we're also twins—but that's only if we had sex, so don't worry."

Rin gave a little wail and pushed him away. "See! It's disgusting! Wrong! I shouldn't feel the way I do towards you, but I can't fucking help it. I hate it. It's like I have no control!"

Len smiled wistfully. "That's exactly how I am when it comes to Kaito—helpless."

"Oh, Len!" she cried. "I'm so sorry! I just wanted to help you feel better, and instead I just made it worse, didn't I? I'm sorry, I should never have said anything, I know you don't—can't—love me back, it was stupid of me to even mention it."

He had a brief _Aww, shucks_ moment, then said, "It's okay. Just don't start crying again. I don't know how to handle you when you're like that."

She laughed, tears still glistening on her face.

"You wanted to help me?"

She nodded. "Uh-huh."

"Well, you still can—help me get even with Kaito."

"Okay."

"Al_right_." Len licked his lips. "Here's the plan . . ."

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**A/N: Apologize again for the delay in updating. Probably next update will be next week sometime. :D**


	7. A Samurai Proverb

**Sorry I've been so slow/late updating, guys! Please review and let me know that you're still reading; I feel I've lost alot of you! Thanks! :)**

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_I told him you were sorry, _he read. _He didn't really respond. You've hurt him badly, Kaito. I'm taking care of him as best I can, but you need to make things right again—before it's too late._

Kaito snorted in disgust and tossed his phone onto the coffee table amongst the popcorn kernels that were the remains of Gakupo's little last-night visit. _Make things right_, as if it were that simple, that easy, that uncomplicated.

_Where Len is involved, everything becomes complicated._

Sick of dwelling on it, he rolled off the couch and staggered towards the bathroom, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he did so, and ended up walking straight into his desk. He stared. Those two photographs . . . He reached out and picked up the nearest one.

Len, a cherub laughing into the camera. A round face full of joy and innocence. The biggest lbue eyes in the world. He realized that he was getting choked up and quickly set it down, only to glance at the other one and get a glimpse of Len again, lean-faced and much thinner. Still beautiful, but differently. Eyes that sparkled like the sea, and the sunlight dancing atop its surface was love—_Love for me._ A crooked, coy smile. The angles and planes of his nose and face, the golden hair that fell into his eyes . . .

_Cherub no more, but archangel now. I should have known you needed more._ He turned around, trying to tell himself he was resting on the desk instead of using it as support. _I'm not used to being the crybaby. But maybe now it's time for me to feel some pain. I haven't cried since we separated, _he realized.

Once in the bathroom, he stripped and stepped into the shower. He flung the dial and warm water blasted into his face, streamed down his body, clearing his head and his heart. It felt so good. He hadn't realized he was feeling bad to begin with, but it was better now, somewhat . . .

"Kaito!"

There was a pounding at the door and he nearly slipped. He was in the middle of soaping himself. _You've got to be kidding._

"Kaito, are you in there?"

He shut off the water and called, "Duh I'm in here, Gakupo! . . . I though you left last night!" Furiously, he began toweling himself off, his skin tingling from the freezing air.

"How could you think that? You were out cold last night."

Kaito was dressing quickly now, in the khakis and collared shirt that were his work uniform.

"The twins asked me to take them shopping."

"Take them shopping?" The bathroom door shot open and Gakupo jumped back. "Len can drive, can't he?" he demanded.

"Of course," Gakupo said dryly. "But that's not why they need me. They need me because they require my valuable insights in the realm of fashion . . ."

Kaito was already rushing past him, murmuring, "Dear God . . ."

"Hmph." Gakupo drew himself up, but kept following. "Just because one does not care what they look like does not mean others feel the same."

Kaito sneered. "What is that, some kind of fucking samurai proverb?" He opened the door and motion for Gakupo to go through it. "Get out, Gakupo."

The man laughed t him, making absolutely no move to comply. "I must say, your anger today is much more becoming than yesterday's exhaustion." He paused, Cheshire-cat grin fading. "Whatever has gone wrong, my friend . . . you'll soon find a way to set it right." These words were gentle, sincere, almost . . . sacred. Gakupo turned back once, eyes glittering, to laugh and blow him a kiss.

_Obscene._

He was still standing there barefoot, hair unkempt, in the doorway when he got Gakupo's text: _That, little boy, was much more than a mere fucking samurai proverb. That was your Uncle Gackpoid, more perceptive than you ever thought possible as he predicts your future._

Kaito couldn't help but laugh and roll his eyes. The next one came before he could reply.

_If there's one thing I can't stand, it's being wrong, so you'd better prove me right or I'll invade your house every single night from now on. Oh, and btw, I can also read minds—for a sizeable fee. XD_

Cheekily, Kaito sent back, _And I always wondered how you managed to pay for all those designer clothes. ;) Mystery solved! _

And he felt quite self-satisfied, until: _And just thinking—you did it without the aid of the Mystery Machine and the Scooby Snacks were nowhere in sigh. XD *APPLAUSE!*_

Kaito sighed, and wisely, didn't reply.


	8. Theatrical Tendencies

The twins sat facing each other across a small table in the colorful, crowded Food Court at the mall. In her nervousness, Rin was toying with a lock of her hair. Len was just as nervous, but looked more impatient than anything, drumming his fingertips on the table and sighing dramatically every few minutes.

"Has he texted you back yet?" Len asked, for all the world sounding like a whiny six-year-old.

Rin rolled her eyes. "No, Len, not yet."

"Well, how long does he plan on keeping us waiting? He was _supposed_ to be here half an hour ago."

Rin reached out and smacked his hand. "Stop _grumbling_ already. I'm sure he'll be here in just a—Gakupo!" She stood up so fast she nearly knocked her chair over and threw her arms around his neck.

Len scowled, realizing that their embrace was attracting the attention of every single nearby table. People grinned and stared and pointed; Gakupo was so tall and eccentric that he could usually cause a scene all by himself, but _this_ was just ridiculous. They were clinging to each other like two long-lost lovers suddenly reunited. He felt himself getting embarrassed for them.

"Get a room, you guys," he said irritably, loudly enough for their "audience" to hear.

Rin blushed red as a cherry; there were giggles and smiles as she released him and realized she was being watched.

"Hmph. Where did you learn such rudeness, Len Kagamine? Surely not from your _darling_ twin sister—" Oh, right. The sister he was patting on the head, who giggled a little, already recovering from her embarrassment. "She has faith in me," Gakupo continued, "while you, apparently, still do not." He sniffed.

Len heard somebody whisper, "His voice! The purple guy's voice! Did you hear it?" and growled in irritation.

"Oh, I heard it, alright . . ."

Instant fangirls. How like Gakupo.

"Don't you know, Len," he practically purred, "it's _fashionable_ to be late." And he patted his cheek, smirking when Len swatted the hand away and glared at him with murder in his eyes. _Bastard. I don't even get why Kaito hangs out with you, or why Rin likes you so much. Too bad she loves ME. _He found himself savoring this thought as Gakupo threw an arm around each of their shoulders.

"Fear not, little children! Your Uncle Gackpoid is here, and he's going to work wonders with you!"

Obligingly, people clapped and cheered as Gakupo lead them away. Mentally, Len damned the man for his theatrical tendencies and wormed out of his grasp, huffing and straightening his clothes as he stormed ahead of them.

"I can see," Gakupo remarked, wryly, "that Len is going to be difficult. He's nothing like you, my darling Rin. I always considered you to be the good twin, and he the evil one."

Rin jerked away from him as if she'd been burned, and in a way, she had.

"Et tu, Rin?" Gakupo raised a brow, looking hurt.

She fell into step beside him again, allowed him to slip an arm through hers. ". . . You just have to know how to handle him, is all," she said, quietly.

"Maybe you could teach me?" he asked, with mock-humility.

She slapped his arm.

"Dear little Rin, what's gotten into you? I was merely jesting . . ."

"We'd better walk faster if we're going to catch Len."

"I, for one," he announced, with a disdainful sniff, "do not."

"Oh, just can it already!" Gakupo put a hand to his throat, eyes wide in feigned horror. "I do believe our devilish little Len has been rubbing off on you, my dear!"

"I don't doubt it," she mumbled.

"What did you say?"

"Len, wait up!"

With obvious reluctance, he did so.

"I want you two to make up right now or I'm going home."

The two men looked at each other, scowling. _Fine by me._

"_And_ you'll have ruined my entire shopping trip—not to mention my weekend."

Both men groaned inwardly. She always had to make up some sob story to guilt them into doing as she wanted, didn't she? Not that it wasn't effective—it was more annoying than anything.

"I apologize, Len. I should have realized that my condescending actions would both anger and embarrass you—you are a man now, after all. I keep forgetting that you did just turn seventeen."

_Sarcasm, sarcasm, Gakupo. I see it._ "Yes, well . . ." Len cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I was so sensitive about it. I, um, shouldn't have reacted the way I did."

"Very good, boys!" Rin's voice was chirpy; Len winced. "I'm proud of you both!" She smiled at each of them in turn and you could have felt their hostility melt like ice. "Now, where to first?" she wondered.

Gakupo tapped a finger to his lips, his startling violet eyes narrowed. "I believe I know just the place . . ."

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**Next update = next week sometime. Please review so I know someone's reading . . . or I won't want to keep writing. :D**


	9. The Conclusion

**Hey, guys, I is back early! With update! :D**

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He parked his battered old truck and walked the block to work. The ice cream parlor was situated in one of those cozy little strip-mall type things, with all the stores snuggled up next to each other, their faces consisting of brick and huge, clear windows. Kaito passed by them on the sidewalk, getting glimpses of the people inside many of them. He stuffed his hands deep into his jacket pockets and tried to quit meeting people's eyes—every time it happened, he felt strangely stricken, as if everyone could see what a disappointment he was to Len (and to himself) but of course that was impossible; it was his own conscience eating him up.

He hurried past the parlor window, where a girl was sitting alone at a table for two, cradling a cup of hot chocolate. She was very skinny, sitting half-hunched over the table, pale legs twisted together underneath her, their length greatly accented by the super-short gray miniskirt she wore. A matching sleeveless shirt hung in loose gray folds on her body, and her shining turquoise hair had been put up in pigtails, which were so long that they cascaded down her back and nearly reached the ground.

He opened the door, which gave an electronic jingle, and saw Gumi look up, shake green hair out of her emerald eyes before recognizing and grinning at him. "Hey," she called, making some adjustments to the register as he approached. He leaned over the counter. "How's it going?"

"Great." He glanced back over his shoulder, lowered his voice. "How long's she been here?"

Gumi's gaze hovered somewhere behind him as she spoke quietly. "Since noon, I'd say."

"_What?_"

"Shh!" she hissed, grabbing his elbow and dragging him back behind the counter, where she practically pinned him in an alcove. "She'll hear you!" Abruptly, she lost her anger. "But yeah, she's been here awhile."

"How did she know I was working today?" Gumi put up a hand. "I swear, I didn't tell her a thing. Maybe she's psychic." She giggled, her eyes merry.

"Pffft. Yeah, that must be it . . ." Kaito planted a hand on his forehead and pushed it through his hair until he felt Gumi gripping his wrist.

"Don't," she said in warning, yanking his hand down and flatting his hair, which was now hopelessly strewn in every direction.

"Why not?" he whined, watching her stand on tiptoe as she tried to fix some crazy strand, her eyes intense. "You're like my mom or something," he complained.

"Listen, Kaito, you're the one who got yourself into this, and nobody but you can get yourself out if that's what you want." She leaned over, out of the safety of the alcove they were in, and watched Miku lift the mug and take a long, leisurely drink. "I knew that girl was bad news the first time I saw her." She made a disapproving clucking noise with her tongue.

Kaito's eyes widened. "You did?"

Gumi nodded matter-of-factly, emerald eyes shining playfully.

"Why's that?"

She smiled; he'd fallen into her trap. "Because, Kaito, I just _knew_ she was gonna steal your heart, and frankly, I didn't want there to be any competition." She fluttered her lashes, brushing a soft stray lock of hair out of her face.

Despite himself, Kaito could feel the beginnings of a blush.

Gumi giggled, peered around the corner towards the counter. "Gotta go," she said, flicking one of the buttons on his shirt. "I've got a _ton_ of customers waiting on me."

". . . W-wait!" He rushed to catch up to her and she stopped, hands on her hips, and turned an impatient scowl on him. "I can't—" He gestured frantically at the girl, at himself.

"Yes, you can," Gumi said, insistently, and flapped her hands at him in an impatient shooing motion. "Go on! And don't take all day! Good luck . . ." With a last sympathetic look, she left in favor of manning the cash register.

As the first customer stepped up to the counter, a sincere smile filled her round, cheerful face. She was a small girl, and since she was only sixteen, worked part-time. Still, she was dependable, and her flirting had never been anything other than good-natured and friendly. She was on good terms with Kaito, as with most. With her perpetually cheery disposition, everyone wanted to be around her, and she let them flutter, being a natural social butterfly.

She had even understood Kaito's shyness when he'd first started working at the parlor, and had helped him get comfortable with greeting customers by giving him pointers and practice, which he'd really appreciated.

But not even after Gumi's encouragement did he have the confidence to face Miku. His feet seemed to drag as he scrunched up his face and prayed that something, anything, would appear out of thin air, right in his path, and stall for time, but alas, it was not to be . . .

He approached the table slowly, guiltily, and could only hope he didn't look like he was slinking. Miku glanced up, a faint smile flashing over her face, then looked back to her hands, which lay folded and limp in her lap. Wincing, he seated himself across from her. She took a sip from the mug, eying him over its rim as she did so—her turquoise eyes were as piercing as he remembered, even though they'd undergone considerable thawing since he'd last seen her.

"Miku?" he managed, weakly, and shifted in growing discomfort.

She raised her eyebrows before setting the mug down in the center of the table and smiled, her lips thin, her eyes cool as she regarded him. "I know," she began. "You weren't expecting to see me again, were you?"

_Hunh_, he thought, widening his eyes to give what he hoped was an impression of innocence. _I wonder how you figured that one out. It wouldn't be because, say, I ran past you and first conferred with my coworker and friend before coming out here, would it?_

"Truthfully?" And then, quickly, before she could reply, "No, I wasn't." He fixed his gaze on the coffee cup. _Awkward . . . _

She laughed shortly, doubtless at his discomfort, tossing her head back as she did so. "At least you're honest," she said, in explanation. "I've been thinking." She was serious again, but look slightly self-conscious, and it was an strange juxtaposition.

"You're always thinking," Kaito scoffed, lightly, glad to be back to an interaction that felt natural.

"No, really, I have." This with force.

"Oh-kay . . ." he said, slowly. "You obviously want me to ask what about, so I guess I'll ask—what about?" _Way to be a smartass._

She took a deep breath. "First of all, I need to say I'm sorry." Her self-consciousness was now very real, and it pained him, reminded him of when her eyelids had been blackened like soot and he had found the brightness in her, within the eyes themselves, and treasured it for its rareness.

He remembered her sullen, timid voice, chains and metal rattling at her waist, adorning her long, limber legs . . . her incredible paleness and plethora of piercings, and the beauty that peeked out from underneath it all, taunting him until he labored to make her laugh and flash her straight, white teeth, toss her head back and forget what she was, if only for an instant.

Slowly, she had become more than just a customer, but a friend. The pattern begun continued: every lunch break, the Goth chick would appear in the parlor, sitting at the table for two by the window, and he, the deceptively shy, serious guy who worked there, came to expect her to be there.

He reached out and took one of her bony hands, held her long, delicate fingers in his own and tried to find her eyes. "Why are you apologizing to me?" he asked, in genuine confusion. "For coming back—is that it?"

"No. It's for not coming back sooner."

He didn't know what to say to that, but was instead aware that _I shouldn't be holding her hand here, openly like this. Gumi will certainly gossip . . . _But then he thought of Len, of the terms on which they had parted and tightened his grip, indignant.

Miku felt it as a prodding squeeze, and swallowed. "I ran out on you, didn't so much as tell you goodbye . . ." It was easy to read the distress on her face. "Hell, I didn't meant to run. It was just . . . You were so convincing that you almost made me believe all the stuff you said. For the first time in forever I started to think that life might actually be worth living—and that scared me. I felt like I was losing myself, like I didn't know who I was anymore, and I thought you were the cause of it, so I left, stopped coming to see you." She peered at him, anxiously. "It wasn't because of anything you did." This was emphasized, as if she needed him to know.

He gave her a lopsided smile and could practically feel the force of her relief. "You didn't know what to do without that dark little thundercloud that floats above your head pouring rain down on you all day long. Without it, you couldn't recognize yourself, and—that scared you, you said."

She nodded, wide-eyed.

"But you came back," he said simply. "Why?"

" . . . When I left—" She was choosing her words slowly, carefully. "—everything went back to the way it had been before I met you, but worse this time. I didn't like it, couldn't handle it. I thought I'd grown week, or was just a fool, but then came to the conclusion that life was only worth living when I was with you."

Kaito froze, and even as he did, knew that he was having the total wrong reaction, that if he didn't stop he was going to scare her off. He tried to force his muscles to relax.

Miku was licking her lips, fidgeting, looking alternately at his face and the table and their clasped hands. "I'm sorry," she blurted, "if I went too far, if I said too much . . ."

"No, no," he soothed, feeling as though he had just woken from a dream. He lifted a hand and slid it gently down the length of her jaw. Her eyes dropped, followed the movement with a stunning array of long, turquoise lashes that led him to her lips. "On the contrary—" His eyes flickered with a stroke of electric blue. "You didn't say nearly enough."

Their mouths met, mingled; in that moment, everything became as it had been in the months before.

"I missed you," he said when they parted.

"And I love you," she told him, earnestly. It was obvious from the hopefulness in her face that she was trying out the phrase to discern his true feelings.

_Len!_ he thought, and a sudden storm clouded the clarity of his eyes.

"What is it?" The question was gentle, filled with concern. She was up out of her chair, her arms around him.

He closed his eyes, felt the softness of her hair against his face, and couldn't bring himself to say, "I love you, too."


	10. Total Tsundere

"Ahh, Luka Megurine!" Gakupo strode forward, his arms outstretched toward a tall, pretty woman with bubblegum-colored hair.

She looked at him skeptically as he kissed her on both cheeks.

"The woman of my _dreams!_" he proclaimed, taking her gently by the forearms. Unfazed, she rolled her eyes and wrenched her arms away to fold them across her chest.

_And a well-endowed chest it is, too,_ Len thought, before he could stop himself.

"Okay, creep," she said, coldly. "Who are you, and how the hell do you know my full name? What'd you do, _read my name tag_? Well, at least now I know you're not illiterate."

Rin giggled. _You go, girl!_

Gakupo's answering smile seemed to last for centuries—it was slow, sensual . . .

_Sickening_, Len thought.

"Why, darling," the insulted said, innocently, fluttering his eyelashes. "Surely you remember me?"

"I'm afraid I don't'," she said, drily. "You don't look all that memorable, mister." But in fact, Luka did remember him. How could she not? Gakupo was unforgettable.

They'd been dumped into the same half-semester course several years ago—Fashions of the Medieval Age, or something like that. It was before she'd decided she wanted to go into the hairdressing field and was still feeling her away around a major in Fashion Design.

On the first day, Gakupo had sat right next to her—she'd been on the back row—and quite charmingly, introduced himself. It was all well and good, sitting next to an unusual, spirited, and attractive guy her age—until he started hitting on her constantly. Every day, she'd leave angry from that class, practically spitting fire and venom, and Gakupo would just grin and say, "You know you like it," in that sexy, smoky, infuriating voice of his. Cursing, she'd stomp away angrier than ever because she _did_ like it. She looked forward to his increasingly eloquent advances and to finding new and brutal ways of turning him down.

How she'd missed their little sparring matches! It was like she'd been drooling with boredom ever since the class had ended. Gackpoid Kamui was probably the most daring and aggravating man she'd ever met, and all others paled beside him.

"I can see my dearest Luka is still a total tsundere," Gakupo was saying. "Nevertheless, I shall persevere." Gently, he brought her hand to his lips, and kissed it as if she were royalty. She glared at him, blushing only slightly. Oblivious, he ushered her towards Rin and Len, who had watched the entire scene unfold from afar. "May I present to you the twins Rin and Len Kagamine, my dearest niece and nephew."

For the first time, Luka looked at him with interest. "I didn't know you had a brother," she said.

"Oh, he doesn't," Len interjected. "But for some weird reason, he enjoys calling himself our 'Uncle Gackpoid.' We're really not related to him at all." He snuck a smug glance at Gakupo, his mouth was hanging half-open, as if he'd been about to respond but had been beat to it.

Rin giggled.

"As I was _saying_ . . ." Gakupo gave Len a good glare and turned to Luka, agreeable once more. "These dear children are in dire need of your talents, my love. I know that you are capable of making their golden tresses even more spectacular than they already are."

"Yes," she murmured. "I can't believe this coloring is natural. You guys are lucky." She stepped closer to the twins, tilting her head as she studied their hair. She eyed Len's warily. "How long is it when it's not in a ponytail?" she asked, briskly.

Len look startled. "Oh, um, it's always in a ponytail . . ."

But she had already yanked it out, was running her fingers through it. Len tried to resist the urge to slap the pretty Luka lady.

"Hmm . . . almost as long as your sister's," she observed. "What do they need done?" This she directed at Gakupo, who shrugged.

"Whatever you think would enhance their appearance. I trust your judgment."

"Well," she said, pressing her first to her chin as she thought, "I could give Len's bangs some more texture, making them more dramatic, energetic . . ."

"Energetic?" Len squeaked, eyes wide. "What does that even _mean_?"

"—and maybe frame Rin's face a little better, give her some layers to draw attention to its shape." She smiled suddenly. "You have a pretty face, sweetheart."

"Thank you," Rin laughed, obviously embarrassed.

"Well, twins?" Gakupo asked, grinning. "I knew I could count on you, my dear."

Luka smirked at him over her shoulder as she guided a terrified Len towards the barber's chair. "I haven't even _done_ anything yet . . ."

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**Does Kaito actually sound . . . regretful? :) Hope you guys are enjoying, and please review, again, so I will keep writing. My muse comes in fits, so encouragement might help . . . As promised, I've introduced more Vocaloids-whoot, Gumi and Luka! Get some more girls up in here!**


	11. Backwards

"Soooo . . ." Gumi looked up from where she was grazing a towel over the Windex-covered counter. "What happened?"

It was the question she'd been waiting to ask for almost the entire afternoon. Of course, she'd _wanted_ to ask sooner, but ever since Miku had left, they'd had a slow but steady stream of hungry customers and there hadn't really been an opportunity.

Abruptly, Kaito stopped counting the stack of money he held in his hands and announced, "You messed me up—right in the middle, too."

She turned away to hide her smile. "I knew I had to attack while you were vulnerable, otherwise you'd never surrender."

He snorted at that. "Flawless, as your reasoning always is." With a sigh, he tossed the pile of cash back into the register. "She told me she was sorry."

"Hmmm . . ." Gumi considered that before continuing to wipe. "What for?"

Kaito shrugged, feeling numb. "For leaving without saying goodbye, and then for not coming backs ooner."

She smirked. "She obviously didn't know that you weren't glad to see her, or she'd have ditched the apology."

"It's not that I don't like her," he said, hastily. "I do. It's just—"

"You don't love her," Gumi finished for him. Their eyes met; something mutual passed between them—understanding, perhaps.

"Yeah," he said, surprised by her insight. "Yeah, that's it."

They worked in silence for the next few minutes—Kaito completing his counting, and Gumi getting the counters polished and gleaming. They surveyed their work after they'd finished, and hung up their aprons. The store was clean and ready for the next day, which would be Monday, since tomorrow was Sunday and the parlor closed on Sundays.

"She loves you, doesn't she?" Gumi was smoothly applying the lip gloss she'd pulled out of her pocket, rolling it expertly over her lips as she studied him.

"Yep," he sighed, hand going to his hair as it often did when he was upset or anxious. It was a gesture she knew and recognized now.

"Is that what's bothering you?" she asked, gently.

He shook his head in silence, closing his eyes as he fought to keep control. She stepped forward, touched him tentatively on the arm. His eyes came open; his face was pinched.

"If there's anything I can do . . ." She fished for a response.

He shook his head sorrowfully, straightening. "Really, nothing could help me right now. But I appreciate the offer, Gumi."

_Well, if he's already upset, I may as well upset him all the way and get it out of him . . . _"I saw you guys kiss," she said bluntly, watching him stiffen at the words.

He said nothing.

"Was it a goodbye kiss, or a getting-back-together kiss?"

He felt a sudden strong urge to sneer _None of your business_, but he simply didn't have the heart to be that cruel right now, especially to someone as sweet as Gumi. He realized that he was very tired and that all he wanted to do was go home, crash into bed, and sleep through Sunday so that he'd been ready for his classes on Monday.

He sighed, turning away. "I don't really know, Gumi. Why does it even matter?"

"It matters because you're not really in love with her, so if you _are_ getting back together—as I suspect you are—I don't understand why. You've never struck me as the kind of guy that would just do it for sex."

Kaito's eyes fairly popped out of his head. "Oh, um, what makes you think _that_?" he squeaked, despite himself.

Gumi's lips curled in a suggestive smile. "I'm not as inexperienced as you think I am."

"Oh-_kay_," he said, beating a hasty retreat towards the back of the store to shut off the lights. "I'm not even going to _ask_ what that's supposed to mean."

_That's more like it._ She giggled, gathering her purse and packet from the employee break room before joining him at the door.

"You set the alarm," he told her, and she did so. They exited together and Kaito locked the door behind them with his key. Gumi shifted her purse so that it would sit better on her shoulder; she had no intention of leaving until she had some answers.

"So, you never said. Was it a goodbye, or a get-together?"

He huffed impatiently. "A get-together, if you _must_ know."

She smiled and watched him stuff his keys into his pocket—no wonder he had such trouble finding them when he needed them. "But why?" she implored. "That's what I can't understand. _Why?_ You said you didn't love her."

"I don't," he retorted, flatly. "I care about her, yes, but love—that's different. I don't feel that for her."

"So who _do_ you feel it for?" she asked, boldly.

His eyes fell, and she knew she'd hit upon it exactly. "I . . . can't tell you that," he said, softly.

"Why not?" she persisted. "Is it a secret? Is it someone I know? Have you told them yet?"

He smiled reflexively; she was so curious, like a child. "The answer is yes. To all your questions."

This silenced her for a moment, as she thought about how thin and tired he looked, at the turmoil that was swirling in the deep blueness of his eyes. "Did they break your heart?" she asked, thinking, _Surely that's it._

He smiled until he felt his face would split, then patted her on the head as if she were a child. "No, Gumi," he said, grimly, "You've got in backwards—I broke theirs."


	12. Yin and Yang

"Hey."

Len peeked around the corner into the spacious bathroom, one hand resting on the door frame. Rin, who was brushing out her hair in front of the big, lighted mirror set the brush down on the side of the sink upon seeing him.

He stepped more clearly into view, wearing an affectionate smile as she turned to him. "You look wonderful," he said, reaching out to touch her hair; she had brushed it until it shone.

Admittedly, he was still getting used to the new and improved styling Luka had given it. Instead of it lying long, limp, and very straight, as it usually did, Luka had shortened it so that it just brushed her bare shoulders, and given it layers, so that it had a bit of volume and waviness to it. And she had been right about the bangs framing Rin's face—hair fell delicately across her forehead, drawing attention instead to her big, crisp blue eyes, high cheekbones, cute little dab of a nose, and the small lips that pouted just above the pointed chin.

She was wearing a plum-purple, strapless silk minidress covered in ruffles, which Gakupo had helped them pick out (he'd been thrilled, purple being his favorite color) and purchase on Saturday's shopping trip, and a creamy-white set of pearls clasps around her long neck, highlighting the bareness of her shoulders and back.

"Thanks," she said, ducking her head in embarassment. "You don't look so bad yourself, you know."

Len looked himself over in the mirror. He was wearing tight plum-purple pants and a matching suitcoat, the color of which mirrored that of Rin's dress. The shirt her wore underneath, however, was off-white and silky, with huge ruffles running down the front of it and covering his chest.

". . . Would you mind tying this for me?" She had her back to him and was holding out two huge purple ribbons that were attached to either side of the dress.

"Sure," he said, taking them from her. As he knotted them in a huge bow, his eyes fell on the nape of her neck and the wisps of hair that lay against it, and her shoulder blades shifting through the smooth white skin of her back . . .

". . . Len?" she said, hoarsely.

He looked up and their eyes met in the mirror. Hers were wide and frightened of him, as if he were a stranger. "A-are you finished?" she asked, quietly, reddening.

It took him a second to snap out of whatever spell he'd been under. "Yeah, yeah," he said, releasing the fabric. "Look, I made it a bow." _To please you._ He turned her so that she could see it in the mirror by looking over her shoulder.

"It's perfect," she told him, but he noticed that her smile was strained. "Much better than I could ever have done trying to tie it behind my back . . ." She took her brush and made a few quick strokes through her hair. Len stepped suddenly closer, wrapped his arms around her waist. She stopped brushing and stiffened. Slowly, her eyes went to his, but he wasn't looking at her; he was staring into the mirror.

"We certainly make a beautiful couple, don't we?" he observed, his voice low and steady.

And she couldn't say it wasn't true. Their hair held the same impossibly golden color; their eyes were the vast mild blue of the sea. Their ears had the same soft, round shape; both were of a smooth, spotless complexion. They could nearly have been the same person—Len was a few inches taller than she, and a bit thinner, with a longer, sharper, more masculine face; Rin's eyes were larger and prettier, with longer lashes, and she had a smaller, wider face and small breasts, but the same thin, trim body.

"We're like slightly distorted reflections of each other . . . yet we look like we belong together," he said at her shoulder. "Like—two halves of a whole. Yin and yang." He leaned forward, rested the side of his face against the back of her head, smelling her freshly-washed hair before tracing a trail of kisses down the side of her neck.

She closed her eyes as he tightened his grip around her waist. It was as if a hand were squeezing her heart. "Stop."

He froze, lifted his head and locked eyes with her in the mirror. His expression was quizzical, inviting her to speak, explain.

"You don't have to pretend. I'm already helping you—you don't have to seduce me into doing it."

He straightened, letting his arms drop to his sides. "I-I'm sorry . . . I don't know what came over me." He couldn't meet her eyes, which she knew meant he wasn't lying. Apparently, he was just as surprised as she was by his behavior.

She sighed, and having already forgiven him, decided to confide in him. "In all honesty, Len, I don't know if I can go through with this. I don't know if I'm strong enough."

". . . I promise I'll make it as easy for you as I possibly can," he said, quietly.

"No matter what you do, it'll still be painful—just like what you just did was."

"I know," he said, voice soft with sympathy."But think of all the pain we'll be causing Kaito."

Rin's brows drew together. "Do you think I _want_ to cause Kaito pain?"

"Why not?" Len demanded, his face changing, tightening. "That's what he did to me!"

She slammed down the hairbrush and faced him down. "Do you really want revenge _that bad_? I've let my feelings for you cloud by judgment. I should never have agreed to take part in something I knew would hurt him, no matter how much I love you." She was angry now, her eyes a searing blue, but he just laughed, a bitter laugh that didn't suit his beauty.

"If you're worried about hurting Kaito, don't be," he sneered. "You _can't_ hurt him, because he doesn't even have a heart _to_ hurt. He's heartless. Yeah, he once said he loved me, but I don't even think he cares anymore—assuming he ever did and I didn't just imagine it.

"What's pitiful is that I _still_ love him, even after what a bastard he was to me. I'm not trying to manipulate him into loving me again, Rin. All I hope to accomplish with this is to show him what unfaithfulness feels like, since he wanted to run off with some random girl without even telling me he was finished with me."

"Oh, Len . . ." She reached for him, but he sidestepped, his jaw working.

"Don't feel so bad for _sweet little Kaito_ anymore, do you? And it's worse than that. He broke a promise by doing what he did."

". . . Len . . . I had no idea it was like that . . ."

He tittered, looking away. "Unfortunately, neither did I. I never even saw it coming—imagine that."

To his surprise, Rin gave a wicked grin. "I'll bet _he_ won't see this coming, either."

Len smiled slightly, jolted back to himself by the sight. "The jerk won't know what hit him," he agreed.

* * *

**A/N: Guys, got a bit of bad news. Busy week this week, so the next update may be delayed. I apologize, and I'll work on getting it up ASAP, but can't promise anything. However, I'm open to suggestions for other Vocaloids to write in here. I've had a request for Lily, but I don't really know what her personality's like. If you have a request to be integrated into the story, now's the time to do it. I'll review it and if possible, integrate it, so fire away! :D**

**By the way, you guys are amazing. Thanks for reading and reviewing. As an author, it's so exciting to see people actually reading and enjoying! :) ****Also, this story is now over 10,000 words-that's pretty amazing for me, in this short a time period. Just look at my other half-abandoned fics and you'll see it's true . . . But don't worry; I won't abandon this one, guys. PROMISE.**


	13. Pain and Pleasure

"Are you _sure_ he'll come this way?" Rin asked, nervously, twisting her fingers in her hair.

Len sighed and set about reassuring her for the millionth time. "Yes, I'm _sure_. He walks right past here every morning on his way to class."

"Well, if you're sure," she murmured, absently, before peering up at him, her blue eyes wide and scared, hand still playing frantically in her hair.

Len watched until he couldn't stand it anymore and snatched her fingers up, holding them firmly within his own, even when she tried to squirm away.

When it didn't work, she glared at him. "What?"

"You should really stop doing that," he chided. "It's a bad habit to have."

Rin bristled. "Why do you care? It's _my_ hair . . ." She jerked the hand away and let it rest at her side, but Len could see it was taking a lot of effort to keep it there. At the look of concentration on her face, he grinned.

"Something funny?" she snapped.

". . . You're cute when you're angry."

Her only response was an inhuman scowl.

"You know, I think you're turning into a mini Luka—"

The words were hardly out of his mouth before her hand flashed out and smacked him lightly in the chest.

"Hey!" he squawked, sounding more offended than he actually was. "That's no way to treat your soon-to-be-lover, now _is it_?" He cooed the last two words, and with that as sufficient distraction, managed to get his arms around her waist with only a minor yelp.

"Dang!" she said, passionately, though she looked more resigned than anything.

"Yes," he retorted, surprised to find that he was actually, weirdly, enjoying this. "Because I'm sure you're _very _upset about having to be in such _close _proximity to me, you being in love with me and all. How very unfortunate for you."

She turned her head away. "You're getting less attractive by the second."

He grinned and looked illegally good doing it. "Good to know."

She clutched suddenly at his shirt, its silken folds filling her fingertips.

"_What?_" he demanded. "What is it?"

She kept trying to hide behind him. "Someone's coming!"

His heart leapt up at that, and he went lightheaded; Rin's panic was apparently contagious. "Is it him?"

"Oh my God, I think it is!" she gasped, having peeked out from behind his shoulder. When he didn't respond, she nudged him. "Len!"

He said nothing, merely thrust his hips forward, pushing her back against the wall—hard enough to knock the wind out of her momentarily, but not hard enough to hurt her.

Len seemed to be amused by the little squeal she emitted and her breathlessness. His eyes shone as he smiled down at her as intimately as if this were the reality instead of the mere fantasy she knew it to be. The gesture was as inevitable as the shining of the sunlight, and she couldn't help but feel it on her skin and be warmed by it . . .

Len touched her chin, tilted his head slightly and looked her in the eyes; it was a question. _May I?_ And then he said aloud, "If you want to, you can still walk away—no qualms."

"No." Stubbornly, she turned her face up to his—_The sunflower moving with its sun_.—and let her lips fall gently message was clear: _I've made this place for you in myself; now come and fill it._

At this suggestive expression and the obviousness of her intent, Len's eyes opened wide in a mixture of surprise, newfound respect, and . . . appreciation? She dared not hope.

_Ah, Rin . . . _

Her face was perfectly cool and calm, the picture of maturity, but a vein throbbed low in her white throat, betraying her.

_It is not good for me to know I have such power over you. _

But it _did_ feel good to be the one in control for once, to be the one who could accept or reject, say yes or no, and not be harmed by it, no matter what the result. It was the difference between being the lover and the loved, and as Len was discovering, it was all the difference in the world.

_The control is everything. Make them want you more than they know you want them._

Rin wanted him; he knew it. Her own words had even confirmed it. This knowledge he would use to the best of his ability, bringing out the truth and force of her desire so forcefully and openly that Kaito couldn't possibly ignore them.

_Yes, provoke her . . . _

Rin sensed this change of mood as easily as all his others, and was shocked by what she now saw. Len was smirking subtly at her, his self-satisfaction obvious. His eyes held a sparkle so soft that she knew hew as mocking her, thinking she was easy, that he was getting over on her . . .

_Well, we'll see about that._

Her insides tightened at the sight of his beautiful blue eyes darkening, growing heavy-lidded, and the lips that seemed somehow fuller and lustier than they had before. Her head spun; he was intoxicating her already. Hastily, she prayed that, as his twin, she looked just as attractive as he did right now, and then her face was being turned upward, into his, and there was time for only a few frantic heartbeats and, unbelievably, it was happening—she was opening for Len's lips, which fit perfectly within her own, like a key to a lock.

This sent a thrill throughout her body and she couldn't stifle fast enough the thought that _Maybe we were made to be together._ It was easy to believe, especially when Len was moving slowly against her, sucking gently at first her upper, and then lower lip without stopping, fitting himself seamlessly to her, as if this were his thousandth kiss instead of his first.

Smiling faintly, he drew himself away from her and she found that she'd actually followed his withdraw with her head, moving towards him in an unfettered expression of her desire for more. She caught herself too late, so that he saw it and in his eyes appeared a wickedness that made him a stranger to her. She burned with shame before the beautiful stranger who saw into her heart as if she were invisible, because she knew that it was not enough for him merely to see; he want to make her spill, wanted it as badly as she wanted him, and she knew he would have it.

_I am not strong enough to hold back,_ she thought. _You will manipulate me and have what you wish. I will have momentary pleasure in you, but I will also have to bear the memory of my weakness and shame ever afterward . . . _

Len eased up on her, throwing his head back and tossing small blonde strands of hair out of his shimmering eyes. He smirked, tracing her lips with a fingertip. "Now . . . did you _really_ think that Kaito was coming? . . . Or did you just want some action in advance?"

Stuttering, she craned her neck to see over his shoulder. There really _had _been someone coming—she'd have sworn it! But she saw no one.

He held her fast as she tried to pull away, and laughed tenderly. "C'mon, you can tell me . . ." Abruptly, he pulled back and slipped off his suit coat, fanning his face as he observed, very nonchalantly, "I'm getting kind hot. Aren't you?" He laughed knowingly; she felt herself blush harder.

_Any more of this and I'll die . . . _

He slung his coat over his shoulder and leaned into her again, pinning one arm over her head and against the wall as he did so, grip firm, but not rough.

"Really now," he laughed, "are you _that_ afraid of me, Rin? Am I such a monster that you can't look me in the eye?"

Proudly, stupidly, she raised her head in defiant elegance. "I've always looked you in the eye," she said, coldly. "Why would I stop now?"

Instead of answering, he applied pressure to her wrist until she thought it would break. Her eyes stung with the effort she made not to scream. "Because it hurts," he gritted out. "It hurts you like I'm hurting you now—doesn't it?" Shaking, he released her; realization of what he had just done dawned completely over him. The look of guilt and sorrow on his face, combined with the receding fire in hier wrist, disarmed her and allowed the tears to flood her eyes.

_I can hurt you,_ he realized. _So easily. I can crush you . . . _Had that enormity weighted on Kaito? Had he ever even considered it?

He kissed each and every one of her teardrops as they rolled freely down her cheeks. Sometime later, he sought out her mouth again, his lips moist, salty, bitter. In her exhaustion, it was overwhelming. _It takes too much to feel_, she thought. _It's too tiring. Better not to feel at all . . . _

Len felt there was nothing he _could_ say. _What,_ _"I didn't mean to hurt you."? Oh, except I kind of did! _He took her hands in his, and she bowed her head, so that her hair shielded her face.

"Rin . . . I'm appalled. I mean, I don't know what to say for myself . . ."

"I do." She shook her hair out of her eyes, which were clear despite the paleness of her face. "You wanted to show me that you can wield both pleasure and pain with skill—and you can, Len Kagamine. You can. You've shown me that—but why?"

Stunned, Len opened his mouth, but he couldn't think of anything to say.

She laughed lightly, her eyes glowing with the secret and a personal amusement that intrigued him. "You mean you honestly don't know why you did it? Can it be that I understand you better than you understand yourself?"

To his chagrin, Len realized that their roles were now reversed, and he was the hungry one, the one being taunted, instead of the one in control . . .

"Since you obviously don't know, I'll tell you this: You don't have to pain Kaito into needing you, or hurt him so that he needs your comfort, your love. It would be much more effective if you simply tried your best to please him in any way you're capable of. Doing it the hurtful way will only make him resent you, hate you instead of love you like you want."

It was as if a gulf had opened up between them; his sudden distance was like a slap in the face.

"I will have my revenge, Rin," he spat, eyes burning bright.

". . . If that was a threat, it was an unnecessary one. I won't stop you; in fact, I'll even assist you. I offer myself as the means to make your revenge possible—not because I want to, but because I know you'll only be satisfied if you get yoru way and are allowed to play with fire. Mark my words—you'll just end up burning yourself. But for now, have your way, Len. Kaito's coming—for real this time—so I guess you'd better kiss me like you love me. Come on!" Though it pained her, she taunted him. "What're you waiting for?"

Anger made him swift, rough, his only intention to overpower her. _I will not be burned with this fire, Rin,_ he thought. _I will use it to burn YOU._

But she was more resilient than he expected, pleased by his passion and the fervency of it. _You're only digging a grave for yourself, Len. The headstone has both your and Kaito's names on it. Wait until you see what comes of this. You should have listened to me . . . _

And then Kaito came down the hallway, walking briskly so that he would get to his morning class on time, a bookbag slung over his shoulder. He slowed at the sight before him, and halted as understanding struck. The cup of coffee slipped from his hands unnoticed and hit the ground with a wet splash. Gaping, he looked down and watched the cup, now separated from its top, roll lazily on its side through the puddle and come to rest against his foot. Still incoherent from shock, he looked up and met Rin's steady gaze, which conveyed clearly that she felt no sympathy, sorrow, or shame.

"What?" he heard Len ask her, quietly. Apparently he was only now realizing that something was amiss.

_So into it you didn't see me coming, huh?_

Rin would not pull her gaze from whatever it was she was staring at, so Len glanced back over his shoulder and what he'd saw was even better than he'd expected: the handsome and supposedly heartless Kaito, every bit of color drained from his face, his mouth hanging half-open, coffee pooling at his feet and splattered all over his nice, new jeans. Best of all, he seemed immobilized, unable to move or speak or react, as of yet—helpless, vulnerable, and that was precisely what Len had wanted to see.

But even now, in this embarrassing position, Kaito couldn't keep himself from staring at the boy. Long, lean legs leading up to a round, firm butt, to which the contours of the super-tight pants clung and made impossible to ignore. A black, studded belt sat loosely at his hips, and the cream shirt had come half-untucked on one side, revealing a small patch of skin. The fabric hung on him in loose, rich folds, as if it were icing on his already enticing body. And as if _that_ weren't enough, a couple of the top buttons were undone, allowing him a glimpse of his bare chest. His hair was different, too—no longer tame and smooth, but styled so that it was spiky in the front, wild.

His eyes snapped up to Len's face the moment he realized he was ogling, and the boy gave a dazzling smile, knowledge of his lust glittering like a thousand diamonds in his eyes.

_And I put them there, too. Played right into his hands. Shit._

Len laughed as if he'd heard his thought—a single clear note—and turned back to face Rin, who looked as gorgeous as he did in revealing strapless dress of the same color. As they embraced again, Kaito averted his head, clenching his eyes shut. He felt as though his jaw would burst. The twins, twined together, arms around one another, _kissing!_—Len angrily, needily, with Rin receiving him, accepting him. A sister receiving her brother's lips . . . The bile churning in his stomach rose to his throat as he ran.

Len had been kissing her as though he wanted to possess her, own her. Len had never been anything but gently persistent, fiercely temperamental, and slightly possessive where _he_ was concerned, but _Rin_ . . . Rin he wanted in every way; he had read Len's heart and his body heaved with it, trying to cast it out, up, away. As he doubled over, the little bit of coffee he'd drank earlier came up in an unpleasant series of spurts, and he thanked his lucky stars that he'd decided to skip breakfast . . .

He knew he would never be able to clear away the ugly image of his beautiful Len losing control, burning with desire—desire that was not for him, but instead for his very own sister! It was utterly unthinkable . . .

* * *

**I deeply apologize for this no-doubt distressing chapter, guys! There is not going to be another update for two weeks. I am very busy, and also will not have computer access for a week, but I promise I will be back afterward and I WILL finish this story. So again, sorry, and love to you all! Thanks for your reviews, supports, and ideas, and et cetera!**

**btw, my inspiration for Len's outfit: quaint-camera (dot) tumblr (dot) com/post/3031226487/i-concur-o-o-star-at-this-while-listening (lovely, is it not? *drools*) You do actually have to type in the dots; it's just fanfic doesn't let you copy-and-paste URL's. :(**

**There's other stuff on my Tumblr: quaint-camera (dot) tumblr (dot) com**

**:)**


	14. Morning Star

_**14. Morning Star**_

He was in a darkness as complete and still and silent as he had ever felt or known. There was nothing to see but darkness; he could not see himself, and could not know for certain that he was even alive, and he was alone—the aloneness was acute.

The blackness was taking him in—he could feel it, trying to smother his thoughts and suffocate his self, but the magnificence of the silence and the depth of the stillness was agonizing, terrifying, and he was powerless to stop it, fading fast. He cried out with all his strength, and immediately, to his great relief, a speck of light pierced the darkness, growing in size and gradually clearing away the surrounding bleakness. A great white space opened, a clean hole in the deep blackness, and its cause, the speck at its center, was not a speck at all, but a being that lay suspended in the air on its side, its only support a great fluffy cloud it rested its elbow on.

He began to prepare to meet the being, sitting up and looking around at the last fading traces of darkness as he did so. He found he was clothed in a very nice stark black suit that was a very nice quality.

The being floated overhead, close to him, and he could see that it was a man, his body draped with a golden, flickering fabric, and a full set of white wings spread high above his head. As he peered more closely at the fine face, recognition struck him—it was Len! But the eyes were cold, barren, almost as if Len didn't recognize him. He took the opportunity to openly admire the Len-being's golden-wrapped beauty. He practically exuded purity and majesty.

"Please," he begged, "come closer." _I want to thank you._

The being didn't reply, and wondered if it were deaf, or mute, before he realized that it was now closer, so that he could feel the heat it gave off, but that the being hadn't moved at all that he'd detected—he felt he would have known for certain if those wings had moved at all.

Awed, he reached out to touch the being and the instant his fingertips grazed the golden robe, it slithered from his body, disappearing in a flitter of light and leaving the being gloriously, unbearably naked. The sight aroused him instantly and forcefully and he could not keep from groaning.

At the sudden noise, the being blinked rapidly and gave a little involuntary gasp, then looked around as if it had just awakened into its true self. It was unquestionably Len now, and he cringed as the eyes passed over him, learning the strength of his arousal. He knew it had been revealed, just as he had revealed Len's body.

He did not seem fazed by it, however, and made no move to cover himself. Nor did he show any sign of disapproval of him. On the contrary, he extended his hand, clearly offering him up to his higher plane of existence.

_How could I refuse you?_

He placed his hand in Len's, and immediately a screaming pain shot up his arm, and into Len, who gave a yell of protest. The force of it threw him backwards, while Len began to sink like a falling star, drifting towards him, his feathery white wings a blaze of flame.

He could do nothing but watch in helplessness as they burned away, until there was nothing left at all, and his back was bare and smooth; he now looked like an ordinary human being who lay limp, spent, unmoving, draped nakedly over him. With so much skin against him, he was surprised to feel not lust, but instead a profound sorrow that swelled in him, until his throat felt stuffed with cotton.

He rolled the body over in his lap, and Len's head lolled back and rested against his stomach. His face was upturned, and calm, as if he were merely sleeping, but Kaito knew he was dead.

"_How you have fallen from heaven, morning star, son of the dawn!" Even still_, he thought, _you are beautiful._

There was a sudden sharp pain in his gut as he realized, _It's my fault. I am your murderer. I contaminated you, poisoned your purity with my evil desires and made you mortal. You were not meant for flesh; you were meant for the higher planes, for the heavens . . ._

". . . Take me back!" he screamed into the vastness. "Take me _back!_" He breathed harshly, loudly, the pain in his throat ripping, raw. The darkness was nowhere to be seen; it would not comply, and it was cruelty.

"Was I saved for this?" he sobbed at the sky. "It would have been better had you taken me!" He slumped against Len, inexplicably exhausted.

_. . . We will take you now._

He felt the blessed coolness of the shadows on his back, whispered, "Thank you . . ." Under their caresses, he gladly gave in to his drowsiness. It settled over him with a comforting heaviness, a soothing darkness that soon would be complete, and this time he was anything but afraid. _Thank you,_ he thought, in ecstasy, and then was no more.

"—aito? . . . Kaaaaito!"

It was a familiar voice, but how could he hear anything? He was dead! He began to grumble, and upon finding that that was even possible, began to curse the darkness for not doing its job, for not bringing him death, as it had promised . . .

"Kaito!" The voice interrupted again, and he felt himself being shaken. "_Kaito!_"

He jerked awake, disoriented, his heart pounding wildly, and stared at Gakupo like a startled animal, his eyes a dark, warm, bleary blue. "_What?_" he demanded, his heart doing somersaults inside his chest.

"You . . ." Gakupo's lips struggled to form the words; his violet eyes were even more riveting than usual. "You were—" He cleared his throat, and whatever uneasiness he'd been experiencing passed. "You were talking in your sleep." Guilt flickered briefly over his face before it settled completely. "So I thought I would do you favor and wake you up."

_What did I say? _He wondered. _He must've heard something that made him uncomfortable . . ._

"Sorry," he muttered, "I was having a really weird dream." _Weird? Yeah, more like erotic, but it's not like I can admit that. _As he sat up, the thin blanket fell from his chest and he remembered that he'd gone to sleep in his boxers. As Gakupo cocked an eyebrow, he flushed and stammered, "I—I wasn't expecting . . . uhum, company . . ."

His frown deepening, Gakupo scrutinized his face. "You look feverish," he stated. Without asking permission, he pressed a palm over his forehead.

Kaito closed his eyes wearily, and a violent shiver passed through his body at the warm touch.

"_Shit!_" Gakupo hissed. He hardly ever resorted to foul language, but when he did, the effect was powerful. "You're sicker than she said," he said in explanation.

". . . Who's 'she'?" Kaito asked, weakly. He knew who it was; he just wanted to be sure his mind hadn't played any tricks on him, like it had with the Len-being and dying and all.

"Rin," Gakupo replied, in irritation.

He remembered what she had said, as he rested a hand on the wall for support, his world spinning dizzily, saliva swimming in his mouth . . .

"It wasn't real, Kaito."

"What do you m-mean—?" He tried to hold back another dry heave—unsuccessfully.

"I mean we staged it!"

For some reason, he found that hysterical. "Staged it? . . . You expect me to believe _that_? I'm not . . . retarded, Rin. The truth is you're Len's little slut."

". . . I'm telling the truth, whether you believe me or not, Kaito. Call me what you want, but Len only did what he did to make you jealous—he loves you!"

He turned his face away from her and spat, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "Yeah, that was love if I ever saw it," he said, vehemently. "More like, 'I don't give a damn.'"

"Except he _does!_" Rin cried, circling around so that she could see his face. The deep blue eyes refused to meet her own, stayed focused on the wall as he breathed heavily. "You've just made him so angry that he doesn't know any other way to express it other than by lashing out at you! Trust me, I _know_ how he is, and he doesn't _mean_ any of this! Once it passes, he'll be out of his head with guilt, and it'll be super-easy for you to win him back.—You _do_ want to win him back, don't you?"

". . . After that, I'm not so sure," he admitted.

"Of course you are!" she shot back. "Why else would you have reacted so violently to seeing him with me! You can't stand the thought of him with someone else any more than he can stand the thought of you with someone else! You're both so stubborn and _stupid!_"

Kaito cocked a brow; she'd stamped her foot to emphasize that last word. "I don't know why _you're_ so upset about it," he said, smoothly.

She propped her hands on her hips and said sassily, "_Oh_, maybe just because I'm tired of being your guy's little go-between slash mediator, and turning myself into a 'slut'—" She mimicked quotation marks in the air. "—just to make up for your guys' poor communication skills!"

". . . Now lie back down and I'll go get you some Tylenol, or something equivalent."

After remembering how she'd lectured him, his head _did_ ache. He scrunched back down under the blanket, all too willing to be waited on. Gakupo disappeared into the kitchen, his hair trailing long and straight down his back. He smiled lazily as he leaned back against the pillow—someone there was nothing more reassuring than having a fiercely protective, freaky Uncle Gackpoid to take care of you.

He reappeared, carefully handing Kaito a glass of water filled to the brim. Since his stomach was still sore, he sipped at it tentatively as Gakupo popped two pills out of their package and dumped them in his hand. "Take these," he commanded.

"Yes, sir," Kaito half-sneered, teasing, before swallowing them both in a big gulp of water. He noticed that Gakupo seemed to breathe a short sigh of relief when he did so.

"You're supposed to be in class right now, aren't you?" Kaito realized.

Gakupo gave him a pointed stare. "Considering that you didn't attend any of yours, I'd say you have no right to criticize, hypocrite."

He winced. "Good point."

"Me, I went to all my morning ones, then went to meet you for lunch, and almost died when you didn't show. You're never late," he added, in explanation. "I asked around, discovered not a soul had seen a trace of you all day, so I texted everybody I could think of. That was when Rin told me she'd seen you get sick on the way to class and taken you home, and I decided to come over and make sure you were okay."

"I feel much better than I did earlier," he said, gravely.

"Huh!" Gakupo barked a laugh.

". . . Did Rin say anything else?" he ventured.

The question earned him a strange look. "No.—Why? _Was_ there something else that occurred? Something I don't know about?"

Kaito's guilty expression was all the answer he needed.

"I thought she sounded evasive, but then I thought it merely my own overactive imagination . . . But, now that I think of it, you _are_ a few years older than her, and handsome—she probably finds you attractive and just didn't want me to know."

He grimaced. "Ugh, Gakupo, you're making me sick again."

"Oh, is she too young for you?" He laughed, a rich, sultry sound. "My apologies, then. I'll admit, she is a a pretty catch, but I have eyes only for Miss Megurine Luka. My dear, darling Luka . . ." He sighed deeply. "I am so hopelessly in love with that woman . . ."

"Head over heels," Kaito muttered; his friend's fancy was quite well-known to him.

"_Someone's_ feeling better," Gakupo retorted. "Or perhaps—" His eyes lit up. "—jealous? Understandable, of course, consider that Luka is lovely, absolutely lovely—Wouldn't you say she is the loveliest being you have ever set eyes on?"

"No," Kaito replied, thoughtlessly, taking a small sip of water. "Len is." His stomach plummeted as he realized the enormity of what he had just let slip.

_Damn, damn, damn! And there's no way to take it back, either. I can't just laugh it off; he knows I was serious . . . DAMMIT!_

Grimacing, he looked slowly up at Gakupo and found that he was wearing his Chesire-cat grin. "They say the truth will out itself . . . one has only to wait. The fact that you were moaning his name in your sleep a minute ago was the evidence I needed. I've been wondering about you two for quite some time, and I guess now I have my answer."

All he could manage was a muttered, "_Fuck._"

* * *

**SOOOO! There may not be another update for awhile; I am still working on it. I thought this chapter would immensely please you guys (although I'm teasing you again. ;p), and I'm so sorry about the wait! (This is a project of very large size for me, really.) As soon as I find the picture I used for my inspiration for the dream sequence (you KNOW you do), I will post it here (or you can PM me if you want me to send the URL to you) but I warn you, there is nudity, although it's quite tasteful (and admittedly enjoyable).**

**Also, the quote that Kaito thinks to himself when Len is "dying" is from Isaiah and is about the fall of Lucifer, in case anyone cared. :)**

**UPDATE!: I have not forgotten this fanfiction; on the contrary, I've been swamped with exams and I graduate in about two weeks now, so my apologies for all you eager (or perhaps impatient) readers out there and promise you this has NOT been abandoned. I also brought you the think I was talking about earlier in this obnoxious author's not to cheer you up!**

**http:/quaint-camera . tumblr . com/post/3503425664/so-inappropriate-yet-so-cool-oh-god-kaito-all**

**Delete the spaces in between the dots and you are set to go! Ya'll feel free, as always, to give me shout-outs about what you want to see written into this and I'll try my best to incorporate. I've got some ideas, just haven't had the time. :)**


	15. Cain and Abel

"Ugh!" Rin spat, loudly, when she was sure her brother was out of range and couldn't hear her. She scrubbed the back of her hand across her mouth. Len hadn't said goodbye, but given her a large, wet peck on the lips, which had been completely unexpected and extremely cold and slobbery, not to mention sloppy. Afterwards, far from apologetic, he'd tweaked her nose with a smirk and she'd heard the words as clearly as if he had voiced them aloud: _You lose._

Enraged at the twist of his lips, yet entranced by the sparkling sea-eyes and still shocked by the kiss, all she could do was stare at him as her emotions mingled on her unwilling face. He watched her languidly—everything disinterested but his eyes, which were bright and cool—absorbing, learning, knowing her. _A cool blue flame, to soothe my secrets out of me_, she thought, discerning his intent and shielding herself from it. His face darkened and he took an abrupt step backwards before stalking away.

A disgusted snort escaped her as she made her own exit, and at hearing the quick smattering of footfalls, Len glanced back, but she was already gone—to where he didn't know. He hesitated. _Maybe I should wait for her._ But he decided against it, knowing that in their respective states, they were as good as toxic to each other.

He kept walking, but wasn't able to muster the haughty anger and energy he had felt a moment ago. His eyes widened as the distant sounds of coughing and—heaving?—reached his ears, along with echoes of his sister's familiar voice. Was she talking to him? An image of Kaito's pallid face filled his mind. He had honestly looked terrible, and it hadn't even crossed his mind that he could actually be ill; all he had felt was his own sense of satisfaction . . .

He felt strangely weak, and managed only a few more steps before he had to stop and rest. He was grateful that nobody was around and that he at least had privacy. As he lowered his face into his hands and slid down the wall, praying that it would pass, his mind was assaulted.

"_. . . how . . . beautiful,"_ he heard himself whisper. Tender words that had been turned away, words he'd fought to release, and their rejection smoldered not in his face, but in his heart, so that he wondered how he could ever have loved this man at all.

"_No, Len._" He flinched at the harshness of the voice, as he had the first time.

"_I should never have told you._"

"_No more. No more."_

"_You're not who I thought you were."_

"_I'm not just some _kid!_"_

"_People would think I was a pervert!"_

"_Promise me . . . you won't laugh."_

"_You're just confused . . . mixed up."_

"—_I thought I was crazy . . ."_

"_You're like the little brother I never had."_

"_I think about you all the time."_

"_You don't fully understand . . ."_

"_Like Gakupo loves Luka—"_

"_Oh, Len."_

"—_I love you."_

"_I always have . . ."_

"_What about the age gap?"_

"_I can wait."_

"—_for me?"_

"_Like a rainbow . . ."_

"—_it's beautiful!"_

"_. . . waits . . ."_

"_You love me too."_

"_. . . for the end of a storm."_

His phone went off, startling him, and he yelped involuntarily and tore the device from his pocket in a fit of rage. Through the threatening blur of tears, he glared darkly at the number on the screen, one he'd never seen before in his life. "What the hell?" he panted, stabbing at one of the buttons before crushing it to his ear. "Hello?" he said, doubtfully.

". . . I saw everything," breathed the deep voice on the other end.

Len's heart immediately began to hammer, his anger forgotten as he sat up straighter, glancing around as he did so. There was no one in sight, and even the noises from before had ceased. "Wh-who . . .?" He swallowed, forced strength into his voice. "Who is this?"

There was a long silence from the other end, which increased his paranoia until he couldn't stand it anymore and cried, "Kaito, is that you?"

His only answer was the sound of his own harsh breath in his ears. "You're scaring me!" he confessed, feeling too overwhelmed to continue concealing it. "Kaito, if it's you, just tell me," he begged, feeling pathetic for letting his emotions get control of his once again. It was so much better when he was cold, calculated, as he had been with Rin—it made him invincible. But this . . . no, there was nothing worse than this—this weakness.

"I can't tell you that," the voice shot back, purringly, "because it's just not true."

He swiped at his eyes.

"It really is pathetic how attached you are to him, how he's reduced you to—to this." Disgust was evident in the voice which matched his own. He felt his mouth fall open, but before he could continue—"I know you don't know me, Len, but I'm much different than he is."

"Who are you talking about?" he hissed in annoyance. "How do you know my name?"

"Oh, I know much more than that," the voice said, easily. "I know everything. You'll find I'm not half as dull as Kaito—oh, yes, I know him, too. Small game, that one, and not complex at all, nothing of a challenge—simple motivations, boring personality, predictable emotions and actions . . . Frankly, he's a bore. I don't know how you can stand him, much less love him. _I_ certainly never did."

"Who are you?" Len demanded. "How do you know—about us?" He couldn't bring himself to say Kaito's name, or to openly identify the status of their relationship—not when he didn't even know who this stranger was, what their intentions were. "_Nobody_ knows about that."

"You can call me Cain. Although—" The stranger laughed, and the sound was not unpleasant. "I never could quite bring myself to do anything as drastic as murder my little Abel. I prefer to leave that to Taito."

"What?" Len let out, his confusion thickening.

"You _still_ don't get it?" the stranger said, impatiently. "Fine, I'll lay it out for you: I'm Cain, Kaito's Abel, and you . . . " There was a pause. "You're not merely the angel he imagines."

"_Who_ imagines?" he said, desperately, but the voice ignored him.

"You're God," he asserted, calmly, "and you're to judge the quality of our offerings, choose the one that best pleases you—what aroma delights your senses, satisfies your altar. So what will it be, Lord? His slaughtered animals and bloody meats, or my freshly-ripened fruits and tender leaves?" The voice in his ear was enticing and arrogant all at once; needful.

He swallowed dryly. "I—I don't know what you're talking about," Len blurted, uncomfortable, his trembling fingers finding their way to the wall behind him as he laboriously pushed himself to his feet.

". . . Hello, God."

He jumped, startled by the sudden proximity and volume of the voice, and ended up dropping his phone. It clattered to the feet of the man who stood in front of him. He didn't dare bend down to retrieve it, so instead straightened slowly, which gave him time to take in the stranger's height. His eyes lingered on the rich, reddish hair that reminded him eerily of Kaito's after he'd run his fingers through it—disheveled. His skin was just as pale as Kaito's, if not moreso, but he held a very un-Kaito like smirk on his Kaito-like lips.

He locked gazes with the stranger and felt instantly his ability to consume those who dared to gaze into him too deeply, an intensity that bordered on madness flickering in the red fires of his eyes. At last, the flickers of familiarity he felt coursing through himself were undeniable.

"Akaito . . ." he murmured, without knowing how he knew.

The man's smirk only widened. ". . . Took you long enough."

* * *

**A/N: Like I said, guys, I doubt there'll be any updates this summer until towards the end, when I will likely spam you with the remaining chapters. I'm sorry about the wait, but if you're still reading, THIS HAS NOT BEEN ABANDONED. Thanks to everybody who's stuck with it and reviewed; I love you guys!**


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